


Minific Collection 2k15

by bexacaust



Category: Homestuck
Genre: F/M, Gen, M/M, Other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-28
Updated: 2015-05-28
Packaged: 2018-04-01 15:37:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 40
Words: 8,657
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4025380
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bexacaust/pseuds/bexacaust
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A collection of minifics I've jotted down here and there.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Fellowship

Fate has a funny way of playing out. 

The Dolorosa spent so much time, watching her young charge as he spoke softly; as he was mocked and laughed at. She watched the fire build in his chest until there came a night his back was too straight, when his eyes burned like a forge and his words flashed with the sparks of hammered iron.

She felt her breath catch in her chest as he poured his emotion, his soul, into words and let them carry through space and time and as heads turned…

And she worried he had become hardened, cruel and angry.

Then… she appeared.

Quietly, stealthy, the young olive woman crept closer like an inquinsitive feline as the Signless (as he was slowly becoming known as) watched her. He raised his hands, and the Olive bared her teeth in preparation for a strike, an attack.

And… in the calm words he once used…

“Hello. Are you hungry? We don’t have much; but its a warm place to rest. It’s safe, and sheltered.”

A tilt of a head and the soft sounds of a heavy mane shifting.

“Mothermine, do we have a comb? She has burrs in her hair, and its no doubt pulling.”

She watched as he fished a heavy bone comb from their travel satchels, as this feral troll woman sat beside him as he gently combed through her long hair. She smiled as he hummed an old lullaby, as the olive purred along with the tune.

NIght after night, he showed her gentleness, soft touches, until one day she spoke; her r’s rolled heavy and her accent speaking of open sky and thick woodlands; midnight hunts and forestfires.

She came along with them, teaching him the things the Dolorosa couldn’t. How to hunt, find. How to hide… How to defend.

He taught her words, the stars and stories and the Dolorosa smiled as the olive woman, his newest Disciple, stared at the sky in wonder.

“I nefur looked at deh sky befur.”, was a church whisper, heard in the darkest night.

“With eyes like yours, you need only a mirror.”

The Disciple trilled, tilting her head.

The Signless spoke in low honeytones; wrapping her in praise and love as she pulled back only slightly.

“I am a beast? Why do you tell me these things?”

“MOthermine once told me that Nature is a woman. You have shown me proof of this.”

“…H-How?”

“I’ve seen you outrun the wind. I’ve heard desert thunder in your voice and lightning flashes when you fight.”, he murmured, “I hear the creek-currents when you laugh, and you have stars in your eyes-”

She kissed him, and the Dolorosa chuckled to herself, rolling over in her sleep.

His heart would be safe.

They came upon the yellowblood by accident.

He fought against his handlers, snapping and biting and sinking gnarled fangs into the arm of one. He was older; small hints of gold in his hair. The Disciple and the Signless wordlessly nodded, and the Dolorosa faded into shadow as they moved forward.

It was an attack for freedom; the Signless jeered loudly, distracting the blueblooded handlers as the Disciple crept forward and tore off the heavy rubberized braces and manacles. A sharp bark of laughter, and the bright flashes of blue and red.

The Signless sighed, looking over the sprawled bodies with still sizzling neck-stumps. He turned to the ochreblood.

“What is your name?”

A line of numbers was rattled off, and the Signless shook his head, smiling up at the psionic and snickering.

“No, you goof. Your name.”

The psionic blinked, “Uh-m… M-Mit-un…a.”

“Would you like to come with us, Mituna? We don’t have much… but I can promise you’ll never be bound again.”

The psionic blinked again… and nodded, smiling a snaggletoothed grin.

“You’ll like Mothermine… But I warn you, she’s a stickler for being clean. And for clothing.”

The psionic huffed, crossing his arms before the both of them snorted and chuckled. The Disciple slunk up to them, tugging and their elbows and nodding. It was time to go.

Their steps fell into sync without them trying, and the Dolorosa felt warm even as the night cooled. She tilted her head, smiling at their new companion.

“First things first; let’s get you cleaned up.”, she said, her voice that husky feminine note in the air.

The Disciple grinned, elbowing the Signless gently at the sudden starstruck look on Mituna’s face.

“And… oh love, you’re hair is a bird’s nest.”

“Good luck fikthing that one.”, he said with a shrug.

“Challenge accepted.”

They left a scene of carnage, laughing and smiling.


	2. Beautiful Sadness

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "Turn back the time that drew him  
> But he couldn’t be saved  
> A sadness runs through him..." - A Sadness Runs Through Him || The Hoosiers

Hellforge eyes that looked so very tired now.

So tired.

He leaned back against still sunwarmed stone, and exhaled into the air. The Dolorsa draped over the dozing Psiionic after she had bandaged a small spot near his throat, and they slept peacefully.

The Disciple watched her Rebel Preacher, head tilted and eyes sad.

A beautiful kind of mourning surrounded him; He wore his heart like a badge of honor, he draped his empathy and compassion over his shoulder as surely as his old and tattered cloak… Sometimes, she swore his soul’s hem matched the tears and frays.

Her steps were light as she moved to him, hips swaying gently before she knelt beside him.

Gently, she stroked the line of his jaw with her scarred knuckles, and he turned to look at her.

Hellforge iris; a supernova in his eyes and she felt her heart catch in her chest.

“I…”, he started.

She shook her head, moving to settle in his lap, to try and kiss away his funeral veil of silence. His arms wrapped around her waist and held her with the desperation of the walking dead, and she felt fear in his veins, tasted it on the air as surely as any Huntress could.

She tangled her fingers in too-curly hair, gently pulling to coax a space between their lips.

“Be mine tonight, love. Let me steal you from your sadness, even for a little while.”

She brushed their lips together as she whispered, “Please, please let me.”

All he could do was nod, he nodded slowly and their mouths pressed together once again.

She loved him ferociously, she loved him with the same fury he loved his words.

But…

For all the love he showed and felt and recieved… For all the small victories and praise…

A _beautiful_   **sadness**  runs through him…


	3. Hello, Mrs. Robinson

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Anonymous asked: Ancestor Night, signless's mom has got it goin' on.

It was almost terrifying, how he’d protect her.

The Disciple and Psiionic were eternally amused whenever the Dolorosa recieved… romantic attentions.

Violet corsairs sneaking around the docks sidling up to her, murmuring salacious words to which she merely smiled, and blushed. Suddenly, a sickle was unsheathed and the tip against gillfronds as the Signless snarled in a low tone.

Rustbloods choking on words when they were hauled back by their braids.

Tealbloods being told that sentencing would be swift and with great prejudice.

“Poor Mother is never going to marry.”, the Disciple snickered as the Dolorosa gently scolded her adopted son for breaking ANOTHER nose.

“You never know. Madame is a very thly lady, and can keep thomething thecret if she liketh. I think she jutht enjoyth the attention.”

The Disciple looked at the Psiionic as he snickered to himself, narrowing her eyes at him until he returned her gaze and winked conspiratorily. She covered her mouth with a hand in mild scandal before shaking her head.

“You hound.”

“It’th a burden I mutht bear.”

Of course, secrecy can only last so long… especially when one of the carriers of it has a bifurcated tongue.

The Signless jolted awake at the sharp noise he heard from the back of the clearing they camped in. Thick foliage madea good shadecover, and he snatched a sickle after buckling his belt and charged off, the Disciple chasing after him nearly naked and laughing.

“Come back matchstick, no forest fires!”

“MOTHER IS IN TROUBLE!”

However…

The Dolorosa clutched desperately at the two longest horns of the Psiionic as her hips rolled and she choked on another cry, her legs shaking as she panted his name like a prayer before dropping back on the heavy blankets she so often slept on. The Psiionic’s head rose from between her thighs, and he licked his lips like a stray tomcat laps at milk… and both froze when they heard it.

“WHAT THE ACTUAL STUTTERING FUCK IS THIS?!”

“Charcoal, please, breathe before you act.”

The Dolorosa shrieked, snatching her gown and pulling it over her exposed body as the Psiionic sat up on his knees with a frown, bare to the waist with a thin line of vibrant jade still running over his neck.

The Signless’s eyebrow was twitching, eyes bright and vicious.

“..Rotha, forgive me for cutting thith short but uh… theemth I might have to run.”

“…Be sure to bob and weave dear.”

“YOU’RE DEAD DO YOU HEAR ME MITUNA I AM GOING TO FUCKING FLAY YOU A L I V E!”

The better part of three hours was spent with the pair battling, the Psiionic dodging easily as the Signless swung wildly and angrily.

The Disciple glanced at the redressed jade lady.

“So…?”

“Yes?”

“Good, I take it?”

The Dolorosa grinned demurely.

“My dear, he’s my favorite mode of transportation.”

The Disciple joked before falling backwards and howling in laughter.


	4. Buy The Captain Rum

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> eridanuschildeater asked: HOW ABOUT SOMETHING FRIKKIN HAPPY and also involving dualscar

It had been a slow few days as they sailed into port. The crew was laughing on the deck, relaxing on folded sailcloth and bundles of rope made soft by sun and shade. 

Dualscar himself sat on an empty barrel, and all of them had face’s colored with a drunkard’s blush.

“Oi Cap’n, le’s have a song outta ye!”

“Ah can’t fuckin’ sing ya twat.”, groaned the privateer, before chuckling to himself, “’Less you get another round out, then mayhap I’ll belt a few notes out.”

A small cheer from a few. Dualscar, though a quiet man, was known to have a fantastic voice, a smooth flow to each word and note.

But only when he had a bit of a buzz. Singing and sobriety were never paired with the business-focused Captain.

And, without fail, someone pulled a fiddle from a stashed place in the many hideyholes of the topdeck. Dualscar drained far too much rum at once to be sane (for anyone but him, to be sure) and cleared his throat.

And with a few notes on a fiddle leading him in, his head went back and the old barrack-room ballads and dockhand shanties rang into the air, giving vetn to laughter from eve other ships they docked near.

An ominous blue one pulled in beside, and Mindfang cackled from her deckrail.

“Look at that! Old dogs can sing now!”

Dualscar scoffed, mock saluting with his drink.

“Oh aye, y’play mighty tough Mindfang, but ah have yet tae hear ye complain about m’mouth or whit ah do w’ et yet!”

“OH YOU OLD HOUND!”, she crowed, her face coloring bright blue as he tossed his back again to laugh.

He blew a mocking kiss to her , jumping a bit when the boarding whistle sounded…

With a shrug, he once more let a tune fly from him as Mindfang and a few crewmates slunk over to enjoy a rare night of comraderie in what was usually a tempest-toss’d romance.

“He’s a great singer.”, chimed Mindfang’s firstmate.

“He is indeed. Sounds much better when I sit on his face, however. A bit more quiet and a little less drunk.”

_“Captain, oh my goodness.”_

Mindfang giggled to herself, shrugging lightly as she winked at the tipsy privateer, who patted his thigh for her to come sit.

“What can I say? He’s something of a cunning linguist.”

“Jaesus woman, ah can hear ye mutter about me.”

“Oh you love it, braggart.”

“No denyin’ tha’.”


	5. Placement

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Anonymous asked: /rolls by in an office chair] maybe a tyrian signless sufferer or a jade orphaner dualscar.. ?

“You know your place…”, was the quiet statement made from in front of the massive stained glass window.

The male Jade nodded quietly, “T… Tae guard the Cavern’s entrance an’ Exit. I understand tha’; but you know my worth in battle, how c-”

“You have your duty as I have mine.”, was the Tyrian’s answer.

His Imperious Anonymity; He of Many Signs and Faces, turned to face the Jade.

“Now, Grandsir; to your post.”

The male jade sighed, standing too tall, too strong.. before he bowed.

“As ye wish… just now. M’rifle is always pledged tae uphold the just an’ strong.”

“I thank you.”

The Jade glanced up, “…Did ah say t’was you?”

Standing straight, he turned on one heel and stepped out, hands clasped behind his back as the Tyrian male flared behind him. Another male jade, younger, with smooth features but the same eyes as the Grandsir, stood waiting for him at the exit of the Tyrian Cathedral.

“Da…?”

“Dinae worry child.”, he said, “We merely had a chat, like two old men are wont tae do. Come nah Eri, T‘s time tae go.”

Eri, full name Eridan, nodded briskly, adjusting the strap over his chest from the massive rifle he carried.

Travel was dangerous. 


	6. Timestamps

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> hamelin-born asked: Ancestor Prompt: The Ancestors were (if not still alive) reincarnated as the lusi of their respective Descendants. Dualscar - who was once Seahorsedad - meets Eridan in the dreambubbles.

“Howw do you knoww me.”

“Th’ Fates… they let me see ye.”, he said quietly, “I was there, Eri; I remember what ye had tae do, who ye had tae hurt I…”

Eridan flared, adolescent, scared. “HOWW DO YOU KNOWW ME OLD MAN?!”

Dualscar was at a loss… and something clicked.

He started to hum; an old shanty, something his consciousness, trapped in that massive scaled lusi had used to calm the young storm before him. Eridan blinked, his fins twitching before he blinked slowly… and his eyes filled with tears. He scrubbed them away with a torn sleeve as his chest jumped, as his breathing sped.

“D-Da?”

“Aye, tha’ t’is. Fate let us all see ye, all a us.”, said Dualscar, breaking the tune like glass, “Ah’m sae sorry fer what ye had tae do, li’l un I’m so fuckin’ sorry…”

“DA!”

Eridan barrelled into him with a howl of grief, and Dualscar bundled him close, rocking him and letting tears soak his silks.

“Yeh’re home now, dinnae cry, yeh’re home.”

“Ah’m here now.”

Eridan nodded, claws digging in as he clung tightly to what he had missed so terribly.


	7. Manifestation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> mamacaptor asked: whispers what about something with ancestor!Eridan and Sollux?? maybe an Eridan like the feral seadwellers we been talkin about? all big and worn by battle and so done with all these damn whipper snappers except that one tiny goldblood with the hips and the sass that's gonna get them killed one of these damn days he just knows it

If Alternia’s Eridan had become this, Sollux would be happier.

Sollux toyed with the hem of a stolen shirt, watching a seadweller laced in scars and stories as he fenced with his usual sparring partner.

“That’th point!”

The Commisar stood tall, pulling the mask off his face.

“Sounds about fuckin’ right.”, he laughed. His opponent threw his own mask away with a hiss, answered with a flare of venomous fins and narrowed eyes.

Sollux leaned forward, intrigued now. He loved these Beforan seadwellers, older and worn by a time before Her Imperious Morality had finally ascended and “reformed” them. Decorated with their own stories, family histories and fantastic tales of war and woe and shining victory on gilded hopeful wings; dotted in jewelry of bone and brass, gold and gems.

They moved like art, pretentious in their wording but hellacious in their wrath. They drew dark territory lines in the sand with blood and feudal warcrimes…

His Eridan looked to him, and arched an eyebrow. The hoops at the end of the dark line glinted, and Sollux shivered.

If the Eridan he knew could become this… he’d be so happy.


	8. Guardian

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> hamelin-born asked: Ancestor prompt: Former seahorsedad!Dualscar defends his descendant - and, in the process, tells his offspring's so-called 'friends' exactly what he thinks of them?

“But ye f’rgave the clown.”

Dualscar was quiet, looming out of the background and putting his hands on Eridan’s tense shoulders, leaning over his descendant.

“Did ye all f’get?”

The other ancestors looked at him. Some looked away, others cowered ever so slightly. Most looked angrily at their young charges.

“We’ve seen yeh’re bullshit firsthand now.”, said Dualscar releasing Eridan to move in front of him, “Ah kno’ exactly what yeh’ve all said an’ done an’ why. He’s no saint, ah’ll be th’ firs’ tae say it. But neither are any a you.”

He sneered, “An’ at least yeh all had more of a choice than this li’l one. Where’s th’ precious princess? Ah have words f’her.”

It was Mindfang who nudged Feferi forward, glaring down at her. Vriska elbowed her Ancestor, hissing softly.

Feferi swallowed hard.

“D’ye know then, princess?”

She nodded.

“Its a start. Now do ye care?”

“I-It was for dhe greater goo-”

“Dinae give me any flow’ry speches, child. Ah’m a political man, ah know the bullshit.”, he snapped, and she jolted back, “Ye’d do well tae sit an’ read once in a while. Then yeh’d no th’ road tae hell is paved in good intentions.”

Feferi swallowed harder.

Dualscar narrowed his eyes.

“An’ the Devil himsel’ was once th’ greates’ a the Angels. Get yeh’re spoilt ass back in line b’fore ah tan yeh’re hide.”

With a squeak, she bolted.

Dualscar looked out amongst the younger trolls.

“An for the rest a ye… if ah catch hide or hair a ye near this boy wi’out my explicit fuckin’ permission…”

His eyes narrowed, “I’ll serve ye tae yer guardians ma’sel’.”

Sollux surged forward, “Who gave you the right to thcream at uth?!”

Dualscar stared down his nose, “My sens a honor and fuckin’ decency, you lispin’ little shit. Get back in line; ah’m sure the Helmsman’s got much tae say abo’t yeh’re behavior during the Princess’s debacle that got ye kil’t.”

The Psiionic nodded, frowning.

Karkat stepped forward, and Dualscar turned to him next.

“An’ you, loudmouht whelp. You’d do good tae listen tae the Preacher. Who in the almighty hell thinks it’s a grand fuckin’ scheme tae howl at a boy who just lost himself?”

Karkat flinched, remembering his outburst during the murderous debacle, “I…We were all a little emotional!”

“Oh aye, ye were; but how can ye shriek an’ howl at him when ye never actually made an effort tae avoid the situation? Don’t play King then ignore yeh’re subjects. Ah’ve no need tae continue lecturin’ you little shits. Get out a m’sight before I use ye for target practice.”

Gamzee stepped forward, “Or motherfuckin’ what?! Eridan went all up and outta his pan, man-”

“…Boyo, unless yeh want yeh’re da dead again, yeh’ll step the fuck back.”, said Dualscar frigidly, “Ah owe the prick for stabbing me in th’ spine before. Don’t make me get even.”

And with his piece said, he turned, ushering Eridan away.

The Psiionic crossed his arms, looking down at Sollux, and the Signless sighed at his young charge.

Gamzee blinked, looking at the Highblood, “You stabbed him in the back?”

Cringing all around.


	9. Guilty

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> chubkat asked: pale dualrosa 0: ?

She shook her head as he stood, humble. His fins pinned back, his head lowered, eyes downcast.

“Sir Orphaner-”

“Dualscar… or Orion, if its easier m’am.”, he murmured.

“…Orion, you can look at me. I’m no goddess with the power to rend you asunder.”

“Be tha’ as it may… Ah don’t deserve tae see yeh’re face. Mah intentions in havin’ yeh killed weren’t thorughly honorable an’ I…”

“Yes?”

“I’m…. sorry.”

The Dolorosa smiled, and sighed… and began to chuckle. She moved forward, gown fluttering like angelwings, and put her hands on either side of his scarred face.

She touched her nosetip to his.

“You are already forgiven, Orion.”

His fins twitched, and he hesitantly smiled; he carefully covered her hands with his, the smile strengthening, and his low chuckle matching her clarion laughter.


	10. Complaints and Comraderie (Ficlet)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Anonymous asked: Ancestor night request if you please, I'd love to see some dualscar and darkleer whining to each other about how aggravating mindfang can be at times

“A right wench she can be.”

Darkleer coughed, “Language, sir.”

“Oh come the fuck off a it, Zahhak.”, snorted Dualscar with a raised eyebrow, “We’re grown ass fuckin’ trolls.”

“…I will agree, Miss Serket can be a handful.”

Dualscar rolled his eyes, “…She ain’t here at the mo’ y’know.”

“…Oh thank the sweet Fates.”, sighed the mechanic, letting his head thud on the table, “If I hear her brag once more I may have to accidentally blast my skull to shards while repairing Ahab’s.”

Dualscar roared in laughter and Darkleer snorted in amusement.


	11. Lie, Lie, LI-E

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Anonymous asked: What about the Condesce grilling the Psiioniic on the Signless and trying to like beat the loyalty out of him or something?

“I’ll let you see ‘im, chile.”, she cooed into his ear as he hung from biowires; as ports were drilled into muscle and bone and soul.

“I’ll let you ‘ear ‘is voice again…”, she cooed, voice like Calypso as it ebbed like tides and time.

“N-No.”

The shock, the overload, the flood of fuel making his veins hiss and burn and hurt and he screamed…

Oh he screamed…

She leaned down, looking at him with her feral features.

“Show me your Messiah, poor boy, an’ I will give you peace…”, she crooned, tracing her symbol on his chest where biofuels had splattered.

“NO!”

The ship echoed with his screams and her lilting laughter, like island breezes and war.


	12. Untitled

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Anonymous asked: Hello yes I heard u wanted more ancestors, so any chance we can see some " my kid is better than yours" From Psii, Dadscar, and Disciple/Handmaid?

“Let’th thee anyone in YOUR familial unit do theoretical phythicth then Thignless.”

“Let’s see someone in your not die for once, Psiionic.”

“For FUCK’S SAKE YOU TWO, shut up before ah shut ye up mahsel’.”, snapped Dualscar, “’Sides, mah boy trumps ye both by default.”

“Why, cauthe he’th violet?!”

“No, cos he could kill all four a ye.”

Eridan, Sollux and Karkat watched the three bicker before Eridan shrugged, “You fuckin’ dwweebs wanna hit the wwavves? I can teach ya ta surf, we got extra boards.”

“Dude, that thoundth pretty rad, I’m game.”

“Sure, why not Eridan, just don’t fucking dunk me.”

Three sniggering teenagers left the old men to argue; it would end with the Psiionic having two black eyes, Signless losing a tooth, and Dualscar glaring holes in their heads.


	13. Killin' Me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Anonymous asked: Consider this... Mindfang with toast.

“I’m dying, this is it, bid farewell to your young and still gorgeous pitchmate Dualscar.”, Mindfang wheezed from where she hunched over the side. 

She retched, groaning, and he laughed, squinting himself.

“Ah see someone tried teh be a shit an’ get intae my private stash.”

Another retch, and a groan, “I hope you get hit in the bulge with your own rifle shot. Eurgh…”

“Stomach empty?”

A whine, and she nodded.

“Let’s get ye cleaned up.”

An hour later, after a hot soak and a scrub of her fangs, Mindfang sat huddled in the corner of the warm galley, the rustblood galleymaid shaking her head and angrily scolding Dualscar… which gave some vindictive joy to the nauseous pir8.

Mindfang nibbled toasted darkbread, sipping gently at a glass of… she didn’t rightly know, could’ve been lusii piss for all she cared. It settled her stomach and that’s what mattered.


	14. Dance In The Graveyard

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Anonymous asked: For ancestor night, can I get some Summoner, well, anything?? ^u^

His feet pounded on the ground, his eyes wide and his smile manic.

Thud thud thud thudthudthudTHUDTHUDTHUD 

WHOOSH.

He leapt into the air, and his wings unfurled like banners. He folded them close and dove into a pigeon roll before swooping up and streaming into the sky over a battlefield.

He bared his lance above his head, an angel of death in the guise of a sepia moth, a spirit, a beast,all in one as he once more tumbled to the earth to catch himself on his wings and rocket along the line of the ground like a devil in flight.

He rose again, three bodies twitching on his lance, and he raised it high.

“FOR FREEDOM!”

A roar from the rebelling forces, and their opponents knew true fear.

Fear was a man with everything to lose, and the willingness  **to bet it**.


	15. Calypso

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> rhythminred asked: How about condie being gorgeous and badass

Her steps clicked as she walked, swaying like a midnight tide over the dropoff. Her eyes glinted like her gold, pupils narrow slices of black in a sea of aged tyrian; her being colored with spilled communion wine and the blood of millions.

Her trident was never her support, her timelessness never showed as age.

Indeed, she seemed more feral as he grew older; like the insatiable beast in her soul merely grew more powerful instead of greying out.

She was an natural phenomenon as much as she was a preternatural being; Immortal and regal and demanding respect.

Her hair flowed behind her; a lamia’s tail or perhaps Medusa’s discarded gowns from ages gone by.

She spoke in whispers and spells, her voice lilting and flowing like the breezes of a tropical paradise.

She was the Original Sin, and the Wife of Demons.

She was Gaia, she was Eve, she was Lilith herself.

“’Allo, chile… come closer, tell me true… how can d’he Queen of d’he Sea help you now?”


	16. Blame Game

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Anonymous asked: The handmaid and Summoner being pale and fighting about how the Handmaid had to cause Mindfang's death to stop her from ruining the timeline

“I LOVED HER!”

“I know you did.”

The Summoner stared Death’s Assistant down, “I loved her and pitied her and you TOOK HER!”

“I had to, please understand, I-”

“SHE’S GONE FOREVER!”, he howled, grabbing his own hands and squeezing his eyes shut as his chest shuddered hard, “She’s… she’s gone… forever…”

The Handmaid breezed forward, catching him against her frame and stroking his hair, “I know, little bull. I did not want to take her… I would never want to hurt your golden heart, fairytale child.”

He sobbed.

She closed her eyes, letting him mourn in the shades of blue he had loved so dearly.


	17. Secrets Dark and Deep

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> timetraveleroftrees asked: Can You Do Mindfang Squbadiving?

She had seen him dive for sweeps, and every time she asked what he saw in the murky depths.

“Ah see mahsel’.”

She brushed it off as him being purposely avoidant.

But now, as she drifted in the dark and followed a violet glow, she wondered if it was more. She kicked out hard, doing her best to use minimal movement as she trailed him.

She watched him pull himself over the edge of a trench, and she herself dove after him… and her eyes grew wide.

A field of glowing corals, small fish darting hither and yon. Forgetting herself, forgetting her time, she kicked out and down. So enraptured was she by the living gems she saw she ignored her fuzzing vision…

And by then it was too late.

She choked, losing the mouthpiece but thankfully closing her mouth as she struggled to kick up just go UP Marquise…

She saw the hazy glow above her begin to fade…

And the the shadow.

“Idiot woman…”, hummed muffled in the water. Hands were on her, hands she knew.

“Breathe in as I breath out, Marquise.”

He gave her air, letting them drift up as she clutched him. slowly, the water grew warmer, her head began to clear; and they finally broke the surface. He shook his head, sending the token Ampora curls and waves every which way until they settled like a halo from where she was near-crushed against his chest.

“You were right…”, she murmured, half drunkenly from oxygen deprivation.

“Hm?”

“Down there… You said you see yourself… I can see it to.”

They went quiet, and she passed out in his arms.

She woke up on her ship… they never spoke of it again.


	18. A New Kind of Poetry? (Ficlet)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> tyrantbloodedladies asked: Can I request some BFF hijinks with GHB and HIC?

“Well that was just motherfuckin’ rude now.”

The Condesce snorted unprofessionally, nudging the indigo gently, “Aw, come on- no ‘ard… eelings.”

He rolled his eyes, “The shell you tryin’ to say queenie?”

She sputtered, giggling, “Not my problem t’at you are terribubble at cards, funnyman.”

“Well I’m callin’ motherfuckin…”, he leaned closer to her and whispered, “ _shenanifins_.”

She burst out into snorting laughter, resting her head on the table as other looked on in confusion at the proudly perched and paint cultist and the snorting Queen of the Skies and Sea.


	19. Untitled Ficlet

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> rizaoftheowls asked: Ancestor prompt: Dualscar, drunk off his ass, melodramatically whining about his love life.

“Ah’m no’ tha’ fuggin’ scary!”

His crew laughed outrageously as he pouted at the rustblood galleymaid, who crossed her arms.

“Says the man who shows up nightly covered in blud an’ guts! I’ve done your laundry, Sirrah, I know what manner of monster ye be!”

“Ach, m’heart is break’t!”, he said dramatically, leaning back against the rail an dgrinning… and dropping over the side.

The galleymaid shrieked, and the crew crowded the rail, calling for ropes and volunteers until…

“DID YE STUPID BASTARD FERGIT AH’M A FUCKIN FISH?!”

Dualscar had swum under his massive ship like a streaking shark, poppin up on the other side and laughing.

Of course, he howled when the galleymaid dumped a bucket of ice cold soapy water over the side, berating him.


	20. Mountain Lion

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Anonymous asked: Could we get some Mothership? ((DoloPsii))

Dolorosa grinned as he gasped her name like a prayer; she licked her lips, lapping at the tiny prickmarks in his hip as he moaned into the air. His hands were bound (his request, surprisingly), and his fingertips sparked.

She sat up, moving to settle her heavy hips over his pelvis before she leaned down to drag her tongue over his collarbones.

“Delicious little thing.”

“G-Glad to hear it, nnnn…”

“Lemonade in summer, dear..”, she purred, sliding down his body to hear him hiss in arousal before she left a dark mark over his heart.

“Nnnah-haaa… p-please…”

Seamtress’s fingers tapped a rhythm on his skin before her weight left him and he whined like a wounded beast. She loosened his clothing further, freeing a pair of writhing bulges before she chuckled.

“How do you ask darling?”

“Please!”, he pleaded sharply, his back arching as her fingertips toyed with him until he nearly thrashed.

“Very good…”, she purred, straddling him.

He panted hoarsely, hips bucking as she hovered over him for a moment.

“Don’t be too quiet now… You know I love your voice.”

Both honeygold appendages sought her nook, and she sighed like spring as he moaned out into the air.

He did not disappoint.


	21. Ink and Heat (Ficlet)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> taureanfandomtrashartist asked: Summoner getting (blue) tattoos for Mindfang?

She ran her fingers over the blue lines on his skin.

“Why?”

“Because.”

She looked at him, at the gentle warmth of his eyes and smile. She looked at her own blue symbol, usually something so cold to her, like tempered steel and church glass at dawn…

And he wore it proudly, over the thud of his pulse, the source of the fire in his veins.

She rested her living hand over it, and he kissed her, he kissed her like sunrise and gold and hot iron.

She clung to him, feeling her knees go weak and she swore her blood warmed just from their lips touching.


	22. Dancefloor (Ficlet)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Anonymous asked: flushed Summoner and Mindfang?

“Of course I’ve gone dancing. I was quadranted with Dualscar, and we suffered together in that regard.”

“No, I meant real dancing.”

She looked at the Summoner as he grinned. His shirt baggy from the lack of sleeves and holes for his wings, he offered her a hand.

She took it and he pulled her outside, to where their forces gathered around bonfires, where songs were belted out carelessly and everything was bathed in a golden glow. And he pulled her into the swirl and sway, guiding her body to move in sync with his.

The air was charged with battle victories and hunger, and she found herself gasping as he bit lightly at her neck, as his hand moved down her figure to cup her gently through her clothing.

It was animalistic, it was humming in her veins and she whispered a plea for him to take her, have her again and again until her voice gave out and the stars blushed like sunrise.

She learned to like dancing a little more.


	23. My Heart’s an Autoclave (Ficlet)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> fbi-agent-estelle asked: Pale Dualscar Dolorosa please

She blamed herself.

She cried for him, clutching where a womb would be were they mammalian and she sobbed.

“Who in their right mind would see me as home?!”, she sobbed out, lipstck smeared and her lips bloodied from biting them.

“They did. As do I, dearie.”

SHe looked up, throwing her arms over his shoulders and sobbing her losses into the silks of an old privateer. He sat upon the floor, bundling her close and holding her to an old heart.

“Hush my pretty, hush li’l faechild…”, he murmured, “Let yersel’ shatter, dolly. Ah’m here.”

She draped, sobbing like a dying Madonna even as he wiped her tears and tried to give her his strength.


	24. Untitled Ficlet

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> jess-mika asked: What about Nepeta meeting ancestor Equius?

He was tall, and broad, and quiet.

He was not  _your_  Equius, specifically.

But when he leaned down, when he gently pet your hair and whispered fro you to please not cry…

He was close enough for now.

And he held you like your Equius did, and he let you weep into his chest over what was lost before you found purgatory.


	25. A Little Death

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Anonymous asked: Okay so really gross Black DualFang

He was conniving, your Privateer Captain.

You had perched on his lap, cheeky as ever. He had made a great show of annoyance, a great facade of being utterly done with your childish antics…

And had unlaced your bodice with all the stealth of a hunting oliveblood.

You had shifted, glaring at him… before pulling it off in full view of the poor deckhand making a status report. Your breasts hung heavy as you buttoned your coat over them, and smiled at Dualscar; channeling all your sarcasm into it.

The crewhand who made his report bolted, closing the door behind him.

Dualscar moved like a shark who scented blood, and you swore viciously as he stood and dropped you on his desk. Your coat pinged its buttons right off as he pulled it away, and you moaned like a dog in heat when his mouth was on you.

“N-Not even going to ask? H-Haaaaaaow ungentlemanly of you!”

“Since when d’ye wan’ me gentle, Marquise?”, he growled.

You yelped as he tugged on your thighs, as he pushed your skirts up and tore your stocking with his teeth. Your moan rose into a squeal at his tongue, almost too long and chilled like winter; as his hands- you gripped his horns and let your hips buck and roll and ride sensation without abandon.

He puled away, and you cursed at him, moving to sit up before he just shoved you back down and you grinned. He held your wrists against the desk and loomed over you.

It was always fun, when he took charge.

The stretch as a violet bulge pushed into you made your back arch; no matter how often, you think it always will.

He chuckled darkly, his hips moving shallow until you wanted to screech in frustration.

“Something wrong then?”

“Stop being snide, old man, and fuck me like you hate me.”, you hiss in challenge.

_“…Gladly, darling.”_


	26. Horsing Around

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> fresh-prince-of-hope asked: Darkleer and Mindfang being Pale as fuck and getting really offended when anyone other then them talk shit their Moirails

“He’s kind of a bulgemunch.”

Mindfang looked flatly at the Summoner… and gently smacked the back of his head.

“He’s a horse’s ass, but only I’m allowed to call him a horse’s ass.”

“Why?!”

“Because I put up with the hot air.”

“I don’t get it, I’m just stating facts! He’s a bulgemunch and you be a huge bitch someti- OW FUCK JESUS HEL-LO!”

Darkleer glared down at him, and quietly said, “Speak nicer of leading ladies… It’d be a shame to lose the dashing hero before the first act.”


	27. Horseplay Is Not A Funny Word

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> egosumiustitia asked: Can we have some interactions between Mindfang and the Expatri8? What was their relationship like?

“Aw, c’mon Leerie, lighten up. Horse around a little.”

“Seeing as bright lights give me a headache, I’d rather not. And horsepuns are silly, stop that.”

“Then how can you stare forlornly at my radiance?”

“Maybe you aren’t as bright as you think.”

Mindfang pursed her lips and squinted at the mechanic, “And just what gives you the right to say that, hm?”

“Well, for one, I have all of my biological limbs still attached.”, he said simply, “And for another, both of my eyes function, if a little sketchy in said functions at times.”

“…Yeah well, you’re spooky.”


	28. Rude Little Punk

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> hamelin-born asked: Ancestors: In the dreambubbles, Dualscar takes one look at Cronus, declares 'MINE', and promptly adopts him.

He flared and hissed at you, after Eridan introduced him.

He was broad and strong, all muscle and irritated flickering fins. Thick tines and sharp spines and too dark hair.

“Dye.”

“…Vwhat?!”

“Hair dye, boyo. Yer hair. ‘S too dark.”

“Oi, it’s my natural fuckin’ color an I ain’t gonna have some old asshat tell m-”

“I did it fer a while when ah was young, calm yersel’.”, snorted Dualscar, “Jus’ be warned, a few sweeps down the road an’ it won’t cover the violet anymore. Yeh’ll learn tae live wi’ it.”

Cronus blinked, and groaned, “Uuuuugh I’m gonna look so old!”

“Ah may be old but ah can toss ye like a sack a flour.”

“Could not.”

One shrieking dive and a cascade of Eridan’s laughter later, all three sat on the crosspar of the mast, swinging bare feet  and talking in low comfortable murmurs.


	29. I Fought the Law

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> argonapricot asked: The Signless either defending or caring for a thoroughly beaten Psiioniic?

Signless sighed, flicking his friend’s ear hard.

“What have we told you about that temper of yours?!”

“To let the anger flow through m-”

“This is not some stupid sci-fi flick, Mituna.”

The Psiionic snickered, looking at the Signless through a black eye.

“Come on, I’m a walking thi-fi movie.”

“Shut up and let me clean your split fucking lip, you snarky little shit.”

The Psiionic mockingly clutched his heart and gasped, “Ye Godth! The Methiah Himthelf thwore! Call the preth, call the military!”

WHACK!

“Come ooooon I have a head injury, why would you thmack me?!”, whined the Psiioniic, rubbing the back of his head.

“Because you’re a nookwhiffing asshat, that’s why.”

“Rude.


	30. Battlewounds

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> mamacaptor asked: whispers maybe a sequel of sorts to the other I requested?? With ancestor!Eridan teaching Sol or maybe Sol tending to Eri after he comes back from a particularly nasty battle?

“That fuckin’ hurts, y’know.”

“Well if THOMEONE didn’t try to get EVITHERATED…”

The Commisar propped himself up on his elbows, having been forced to lay down to Sollux could help stitch a long gash in his stomach together, “It ain’t MY fault. He wwas aimin’ for my bulge. Let’s face it, wwe both knoww you’d be more angry if he took that outta commission.”

“…That’th bethide the point. Now lay down and let me fix thith or I’m never riding it again.”

“Fuckin rude.”


	31. Mouser

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> gaylemakara asked: Pitch DualSciple? :3c

“Oh, a ship’s meowbeast. Are ye here for the mice then?”

The Discple hissed at him, pulling at her bound hands.

“Rude little thing, aren’t you.”

“That is purredator to you, sir, not THING!”

“As ah previously stated, dearie.”, Dualscar said flatly, “So, what were ye tryin’ tae do ta test my infinite patience this time?”

“Just a little…catburglaring.”, she said with a snicker, making him roll his eyes, “Now let me go, fishy, befurr I swallow you like sushi. Cats eat fish, you know.”

“ _You_  may “eat” it but you never swallow, so what’s tae be afraid of dearie?”

“RUDE!”, she shrieked.


	32. Happiness is a Warm Gun

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Anonymous asked: Signless happy

They were warm, and safe, and whole. The Psiionic jostled him with a nudge from his shoulder, and they shared a conspiratory grin.

“A toast to the big dork in the cape!”, snorted the Psiionic, lifting his glass.

Signless rolled his eyes as The Dolorosa and The Disciple raised their glasses, snickering.

“Really guys? Wow, so much love in the room.” he said wryly, but smiling.

Dolorosa leaned forward, and he tilted his head so she could place a kiss between his horns; the Disciple swooped in with one for his cheek.

The Psiionic comically pursed his lips, and the Signless shoved him back with a hand on the yellowblood’s face.

All four laughed, the flicker of the In’s fireplace warming their hearts.

In the back of Signless’s head, however… he knew it would soon come to an end.

….By the end of the week, he hung from the jut, cold as the hearth in summer.


	33. Lament Configuration

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Anonymous asked: Signless's ghost watching The Disciple waste away, The Dolorosa being sold into slavery, and The Psiiconic being turned into The Helmsman.

The Signless stood at the edge of the afterlife and watched.

He watched her grow so thin. So thin and frail and tired. She no longer ran in the sun; nor did she watch the moon and sing in her soft trill. There was no more wildness in her; the wind through the trees had left her spirit to stagnate.

He watched her die alone… With none but a tired sentinel to see her pass into history.

And oh, his mother; his rock, his strength… How she broke. Like warped church glass, like a porcelain altar. He watched her break down, crumbling into dust. She was used and abused; beaten and bloody. He watched her be defiled and screamed for mercy… it came in the form of death in the night. He watched her raise her hand to her face, to watch how her blood seemed blue in the moonlight like stained topaz. Her eyes rolled back and she tilted over the side, sinking down into the watery depths of silence.

He fell to his knees for a piece of eternity and watched his brother-in-arms. He watched the hypodermic-led wires bore into him, heard the whirs of drills grind on bone as ports were placed. He saw life leave dual-colored eyes and be replaced with a tv-screen glow. He howled his apologies, trying to scatter the aethermists that showed him the fates of his Apostles.

He coughed through his sobs, and realized with a stuttering finality that he was in hell.

No one told him. No one ever told him though…

No one ever thought to  _warn_  him that true hell was not the lack of love; it was making you watch what you love fade away…

**Knowing it was your fault.**


	34. All Of My Holy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Anonymous asked: GHB X Disciple Blackrom? (Since there is none in existence)

He blinked himself awake, and found his wrists bound.

She smiled down at him, almond-shaped eyes hooded and alight with the thrill of the hunt. He moved to sit up, and felt claws brush his throat with deadly intent as she leaned down.

“Nefur struggle in view of a huntress…”, she murmured, nipping his earlobe and tugging lightly to make him groan.

“We attack anything that moves.”

He grit his teeth, feeling her lips moved from his ear over his throat as he smiled in manic interest.

“Kittybitch got claws now…”

“Kittybitch can make you scream with them, if you aren’t careful.”

He glanced down to her as she draped over him like a lioness, the weight of muscle and voluptuous wildness pressing every curve against him.

“They always did say the lion will lay with the lamb.”, she cooed, leaving a dark mark on his stomach to hear him gasp quietly.

“But…purrhaps it is more accurate to say…”, she mused, suddenly digging claws into his hip and making him tense with a hiss, “That this Lion will lay with the  _Damned_.”


	35. Official Titles

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> legisaskerator asked: Ah shit, sorry! XD I just went through Toasty's reblogs reaaaally quick, should have payed attention. Then can you write a short story about GHB while listening to Be calm, by fun.? XD

_As I walk through the streets of my new city_  
my back feeling much better, I  **suppose**  
I’ve reclaimed the use of my imagination  
for better or for worse, I’ve  **yet to know**

It had been six hours, twenty five minutes, and eighteen seconds.

Since they had given you the title.

The Grand Highblood. The Messiah in Flesh; The Judge, The Executioner of Blasphemers and Keeper of the Laughter.

You were still shaking from the battle; you had fought your fellow brothers and sisters for the place you now held, you had seen their blood paint the floor the only color worthy of the Word.

You could still smell it, drenching your clothes. You could still taste it in the air around you, and the hum of hymns filled your mind as the voice in the back of your skull whispered three words…

“Well done, brother.”

Six hours, twenty eight minutes, and forty two seconds.

And you planned to reign for  **eons**.


	36. Animal

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> mila-kun asked: Aaah, sorry! Could you write something with Dualscar and Signless? :D

The Signless swallowed hard as he watched Dualscar from the small pier. It was ridiculous.

He was just on a  _stupid_  wooden board, on  **stupid**  wet waves of  ** _stupid_** seawater.

But the way he could curve his body to skim the white foam; the way he could slice something that pounded ancient shores into dust…

The Signless clenched his legs together.

And when Dualscar came back to shore, carrying that  _stupid fucking piece of wood_ , Signless licked his lips.

“Somethin’ wrong?”, asked the seadweller.

“….Get in the hive.”

“…An’ why should ah do that now?”

“Because I’m going to take your soul through your bulge with my lingual abilities.”

Dualscar arched an eyebrow.


	37. Ballroom Blitz

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> ladytitanium asked: if you're still taking ancestor night requests... I have a serious weakness for Peixes and Amporas together. Condesce/Dualscar, Beforan Feferi/Beforan Eridan, a mix of the two... Whichever works for you!

_And the man in the back said everyone **attack**_   
_And it turned into a **ballroom blitz**_   
_And the girl in the corner said boy I want to **warn**  you_   
_It’ll turn into a **ballroom blitz**_

Her Imperial Morality narrowed her eyes at the Commisar. 

The Commisar smiled, and walked forward as the room fell silent.

“May I havve this dance, Madame?”

She offered her hand, and he took it. He led her out, the wolf with a hatchet wielding Red Riding Hood; and they danced like a storm. Eyes locked like lightning strikes and steps as sure as Ragnarok they moved over the floor like a miasma, infecting the room with a barely restrained animal instinct. His gloved hand was settled too low on her, and she let her bodice slip down over too full breast till it teetered on indecent.

They danced to incense, to tempt, to break the other. The music was almost too loud and heavy as people held their breath, as glances shot back and forth between lowblood and highblood alike.

Murmurs of scandal raced around the room as Feferi’s heels clicked on marble, as Eridan’s glasses glinted from the light int he ballroom.

They moved with the grace of predators, of battling deities. Attendees blushed when their Empress was dipped by her Most Loyal Soldier so low her hair puddled on the floor and exposed her creamy pale throat… and he licked his lips like a hound.

He pulled her back with a grin, arms extending and touching at fingertips until she moved back with a graceful twirl into his arms.

They ended with her back against his chest, her curves pressed taught against him. His arms were open, his hands tempted to tear her gown like tissue paper…

She bit her lip, looking up at him over her shoulder as he looked down and exhaled shakily.

“I’m glad to see you’re still light on your feet…  _Princess_.”

She growled low and he stepped away, smiling like the Devil.

She adjusted her gown, coughing lightly to regain her composure as she fidgeted to smooth her gown and ignore the throbbing between her thighs.

As the crowd came together, finally, whispering back and forth, she excused herself, her heels clicking into the halls.

She knew where he’d be.

The Observatory.

She kicked her shoes off and carried them, bundling her skirts and running full tilt to the farthest staircase and taking them three at a time. Her feet slapped cold marble, and she found him; jacket and scarf discarded as he stared out from one of the grand windows.

“Oh dear, I’vve been discovvered by a rumpled royal!”, he said in mock fear; the smell of cloves brushed by her, and he flicked something out the window.

He looked at her, exhaling dark smoke like some wicked sorcerer in a fairytale.

“Can I help you,  _Princess_?”

she tossed her shoes aside, pulling the belting of her skirt loose to leave the long train and heavy fabric behind. He arched both eyebrows as she stalked forward, grabbing his shirt lapels and hauling down for a kiss that more teeth and tongue than affection.

His hands went to her waist first, before moving to her ass and squeezing. She squeaked into the kiss, her body jerking forward and pressing tight against him.

“You’re deplorable, Erifin.”

“Always.”

“Despicable.”

“Of course!”

_“ **Vulgar**.”_

He laughed, low and frigid like oil over ice, his finger tangling in her hair and tugging her head back. He whispered in her ear, “ _You lovve it._ ” before his teeth met the skin of her throat and she choked on a gasp, squirming in his grip.

“An’ that’s wwhy you’re just so pissed off…  _Princess_.”


	38. Samson and Delilah in Spades

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Anonymous asked: Mindfang reflecting on Dualscar long after his death and missing him terribly? your writing is wonderful, by the way. I adore it!

You are my sweetest  **downfall**  
I loved you  **first** ,  _I loved you **first**_  
Beneath the sheets of  **paper**  lies my  **truth**  
I have to  **go** ,  _I have to **go**_  
 _Your hair was long when we first met_

She closed her journal.

He was…

He was dead.

“Darkleer…”

“Yes?”

“May I… be alone? For a while?”

“I-…of course.”

He closed the door behind him.

She threw her journal, letting it crash into the wall, letting the spine bend. She couldn’t do it, couldn’t let herself write the truer words. He was hers. HERS! Death was not allowed… to touch him. Like she could. He was hers.

He had longer hair, when he was young. For a while, he had a thick ponytail, waves of black and violet tied back with a heavy band of leather. The wind played with it, and so had she, when she was young, a first mate on a dark colored ship. He was an apprentice Orphaner then, crass and vulgar and vicious as he hung from the rigging and took vindictive potshots at sails.

His face was already scarred, still dotted from age-old stitches. He kissed her like molten iron and held her like the chains of hell.

Her arms wrapped around herself, her hands clutching her upper arms as she sobbed.

“HE WAS MINE! MINE YOU NEEDLE-BEARING BITCH!”

She dropped to her knees and wailed. Something in her heart was breaking, cracking, falling to pieces that settled in her chest, somewhere on her diaphragm like glass shards and cut her so deeply.

His hair had been so long when they first met, and she remembered tangling her fingers in it and crying his name; remembered it spread over a pillow like ink when he gasped hers.

He cut it, one night after becoming Orphaner. She had smiled, teased him.

Told her Samson that his power was all gone, but it wasn’t. He still had that glint to his seeing eye, that particular curve to his smirk.

Her hand ghosted over her throat, remembering times where his fingers curled around it, where his lips pressed to it. Where his teeth left barely gentle pinpricks and somewhere the lines had blurred.

She clutched her chest, her stomach, she remembered his touch like arctic winds and tempered steel.

Remembered him appearing from the water, climbing over the deck with an old Highlander’s dirk (kept sheathed on his thigh, out of sight and mind) between his teeth and looking like any corsair in every novel she read as a bright eyed girl.

She remembered the smell of ship’s resin and seasalt and cinnamon and clove cigarettes he never admitted to having.

His hair had been long when they first met.

His hair had been long and dark, like he was. 

His hair was as dark as the trenches he swam in at night, like a siren in a fairytale.

And now…

Now his hair was faded and dusty and wrapped in sailcloth and ten-thousand leagues away.

“I LOVED YOU, I HATED YOU FIRST! AND SHE TOOK YOU!”, she sobbed, “YOU!… You…. You damned old man…”

Her hands covered her face.

“You were mine first…”


	39. Indecision

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> reddrankfortheprose asked: Red DualMaid ((Dualscar and Handmaid)), if not then onesided from the Handmaid's point of view if that is okay, please?
> 
> Anonymous said:Could you write some red Dualscar X Handmaid?

_I see… the_ **blood**  all over your hands  
does it make you feel… more like a  **man**?  
was it all… just a  **part**  of your plan?  
the  **pistol’s**  shakin’ in my hands  
and all I hear is the  **sound**  

They met when he was so very young, a teenager with a rifle as big as he was.

“Yeh’re beautiful. Are yeh death?”

She vanished.

They met again when his Teacher, the Orphaner died.

“Yeh’re evil, you TOOK HIM FROM ME!”

She vanished again.

They met again when he was older, more calculating and still wild. Built brick by brick with a personality like wet malachite.

This time, he grabbed her hand, forced her manifestation real.

“Yeh’re death.”

She looked at him, and nodded.

“Yeh follow me, or at least our paths seem tae cross a bit more’n usual.”

She nodded again, alighting on her feet. He grinned, and gently tugged her close to his chest.

“May ah have a kiss then? Before yeh spirit away?”

She bit her lip… and nodded…

He coaxed her into his bed, and she cried out with clarion calls. She experienced herself in smaller amounts.

La petite morte.

She held him close and felt her body filled and gasped his name into the air; she dragged him into heady kisses that felt like she wanted to breath his very soul. 

She spent many nights with him.

Her scent coated his cabin, covered him. He left beautiful marks upon her, blooming funerary roses on skin so pale it was the gray of dawn clouds.

And then he was gone, and walked with her through the aether and loved her evermore.


	40. Leader (Ficlet)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> hottsy-tottsy asked: Dualscar and Condy? :D

She could coax him with a smile or a laugh. Led him around on a leash made with an exotic vocal lilt and the shimmer of harem’s gold.

He followed like the damned and broken; the lost disciple of a wicked goddess. He looked at her in adulation, in pain, in wonder, in sadness.

And she revelled in his delicious suffering, she drank it down like Zeus’s mead.

And he never ceased feeding  _either_  beast.


End file.
